Stone Shrapnel
by Ducky9002
Summary: What if Iwa had a weapon that matched the Yellow Flash? The balance of power isn't something to be trifled with. epic-length


**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. **

**If I did, he would be a much bigger badass and his voice would have cracked by the time he came back in Shippuden. (Kishimoto you hero-hating...hater.)**

Chapter 1: The Unnamed Hand

The hands of time had finally come to release their hold on the fragile hours of dawn. Thread-thin rays of light reached out tentatively over the horizon only to be hindered in their travels by the shroud of coarse clouds still claiming the night sky. Early morning sunlight pressed futilely against the dense gray barrier, its light and heat absorbed and trapped from warming the chilled earthen ground below. Down among the trees of dense woodland, unhampered by the coming morning, freezing night air continued to cling to everything and everyone in within its midst.

There was one such someone to be found on such a morning, alone and well hidden, the final appointed sentinel standing guard over a small dismal camp. A young girl in her mid-to-late teens leaned slightly against the rough bark on the nearest tree trunk in camp. Flat, emotionless grayish-blue and green-rimmed eyes betrayed nothing of discomfort towards the unfavorable elements. The lower half of her face was hidden from view and shielded from cold by a soft, sturdy, vibrant cloth of rustic scarlet. A corresponding strip was tied across her forehead, upon which was secured a metal plate that bore the insignia of her allegiance.

Impassively, the girl turned her gaze from slumbering forms of the rest of her squad to the surrounding environment. They all wore in some fashion, the same insignia she did somewhere on their person. The stamped metal outline of two rocks in representation of the term Stone were all displayed in various places, but all worn with no less pride. Glancing up at a sky still covered by a layer of bruised clouds, the Iwa kunoichi allowed a near silent sigh to escape, the condensation of her breath muffled by material of her mask. It would be time to move again soon. The mission, while not immediately vital still had a deadline. If they were to stay on schedule, the rest of the squad would need to be awake and gone by the end of two more hours. Perhaps even less, one could never really tell during war after all.

Resolving to wait another hour before rousing the others and stretching her senses as far as they'd go once again, the girl allowed her posture to relax. To the rest of the world, or at least to those skilled enough to locate her presence and find her, she looked completely at ease, taking her leisure against her tree. However, looks can be deceiving, especially when ninja are involved. To what might seem a bored, off guard sentry suffering silently through guard duty, others would see a capable kunoichi of a shinobi village and of unknown but certain skill, coiled and ready for a single hint of weakness.

"_It is somewhat of a pity…the unknown skill part anyway. But that I can't blame on anyone but myself for."_

Sparing another glace at the still sleeping squad of fellow Iwa-nin, the girl held her breath for a beat, internalizing another sigh. Another half-hour, then she'd wake them. Meanwhile, she was left to stand watch with little else to satisfy her attention.

While she was not one who really held anything against reminiscing, she did not find it very helpful either. Living in the past and wondering about the 'what if's' had never held much value to her. Sometimes though, it was unavoidable. And with this seemingly everlasting war continuing all around these lands, there were more than enough issues to contemplate on. Admittedly her thoughts could or perhaps should have been a bit more patriotic, but the mind is a funny thing and if left to wander freely, it will without care. And care was something Nanashi Maro, chunin of Iwagakure of the land of Earth, did not do.

Instead, she wondered as she always had at Iwa, at its village and its shinobi…she just couldn't help it. It was her home, and all other Iwa shinobi were her comrades. Or at least, that was how it was supposed to be.

Somehow no matter how hard she tried to deny it, there was an elusive certainty that whispered it was not the place where she was accepted...the place that gave her purpose. For whatever reason, Iwa didn't feel like what she imagined a home would. Not that she would really know what a home felt like in the first place.

And yet, she stayed and, if she was honest, it was mostly out of having nowhere else to go. Where could she go? Even more, what would she do? Nanashi Maro may not be much, but she was a ninja. Despite the vibrant red strip that sported the Iwa symbol above her brow proclaiming an allegiance she'd never truly felt, there was no denying she was most definitely a kunoichi. All her skills, all her talents and knowledge, from the absolute mastery of her control over basic chakra and ninja techniques, ninjutsu, taijutsu, genjutsu, to whatever she could find in Fuuinjutsu, she had acquired on her own. Through her own strict self-training and research, there was no one who could lay claim that they had had a noteworthy part in her strength. It was hers and hers alone. She highly doubted any of her comrades in arms had a real clue as to just how much she normally held back, but that was mostly by her own choice though. After all, a talented kunoichi in Iwa compared against a talented shinobi wasn't usually viewed by the same criteria. Why bother banging her head against a brick wall when all she had to do was wait until she could tear it down? Maybe.

That perhaps, had been the other part of her decision to stay, to prove Iwa's long held yet, misguided if not prejudiced assumptions wrong.

As a young no-name orphan girl, without a single ryo to her simple name, Maro had felt a need, a drive which set her apart from the children and people surrounding her. It made her different. Some didn't say it out loud, but more than enough did. She wouldn't be able to do it. Little no-name Maro wouldn't amount to much of anything, although maybe if she was lucky, there would be a "kind soul" with a red light in their business window that would find something worth feeding. It had happened to countless other girls before her, why shouldn't this time be the same?

After all, what did she have? What tools were at her disposal? When found as a baby girl on the doorstep of the outer-most perimeter and run-down orphanage, no older than a few weeks, the only possessions she had to call her own were the vibrant red blanket that cradled her, and a single name that had been obviously scrawled hastily on a piece of paper hidden among the folds of cloth. Maro…'Myself'. A red baby's blanket and a name: They were her birthright. Other than that, she had nothing.

But they were wrong. She did have tools.

And Maro used them well.

Maro had eyes, so she looked. She looked and looked and looked until one day, the script and scribbles surrounding her were no longer gibberish to her young eyes. Their impenetrable defenses were broken and the powers of the knowledge once trapped behind their guard were her spoils for the taking, with great relish and fervor.

Maro had a mouth, so she spoke. Spoke as both the children and grown-ups around her did. Their word games and riddles, their lies interlaced with threads of truth. She spoke when it was best to speak and stayed silent when it wasn't. She practiced with her words until she was no longer the one who couldn't grasp what had really been said, until she was no longer unaware to the blurred lines of conversation or the clever veil of truth that could shield careful lies of omission. Before long, the language of the adult-world was child's play to her.

Maro had a mind, so she learned. She learned from books about places, things, people, near and far, real and fiction. She learned from animals and their ways of instinct, caution, and their will to survive. She learned from the people around her, their movements and faces, the very tones of their voices, all of which carried secrets to hidden truths most others couldn't see. She learned the ways of the world and made them her own; took them, crafted them, mastered them until they were but more tools to her collection to be used at her leisure.

Maro had ears, so she listened. She listened to the whispers of the alleys, childish squabbles of the older children's upper rooms in the orphanage, to the drunken brawls and shouts that rang throughout the late night. She listened to the grown-ups murmuring between each other as they disregarded her presence among them. But that was okay, because Maro did even more. Amide the seeing, speaking, learning and listening, Maro discovered something else. An ability even greater than all her other tools combined; the ability to understand.

Slowely, but surely, she understood the adults' talks about the vast world she lived in. About the Elemental Nations, the importance of the trade and cargo markets, the effects that simple rumors and scandals had upon once spotless reputations, the monopoly of the Five Great Shinobi Villages and core of each of their services, and perhaps most important of all, the names and legends of the great shinobi before and of her time.

Senju Hashirama, and his brother, Senju Tobirama, the Shodai and Nidaime Hokages.

Uchiha Madara, legendary rival to the Shodai, and ex-leader of the Uchiha Clan

Hanzo the Salamander of Amegakure

Muu, the rumored world's most untraceable shinobi, the Nidiame Tsuchikage

The Sandiame Kazekage of the Iron Sand

Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Sandiame Hokage and fabled God of Shinobi

His three students, Orochimaru the snake charmer, Senju Tsunade the Slug Tamer, and Jariya the Toad Sage

And her personal favorite…

Hatake Sakumo, the White Fang of Konoha.

It may have been wrong for her to come so close to idolizing this one man in particular. He was a shinobi of Konoha after all, not really an icon for the future generations of kunoichi in Iwa. If anything, it would have made more sense for Senju Tsunade to be the one she aspired to be like. Even in the other Great Shinobi Villages, she was known and respected, however begrudgingly, as the best medic seen in shinobi history, and the best kunoichi since Senju-Uzumaki Mito, wife of the Shodai Hokage.

But, the fact remained she wasn't.

Perhaps it was the way people talked about him, with fearful respect in their voices and awe hidden in their eyes. Granted, that wasn't much different than how they talked about the other legends like him, so she supposed it could be his unique appearance. From a faded yet recognizable picture in the most up to date library Maro could locate, she had seen him. Silver-white hair, tall, broad frame, and coal grey eyes that had to make his visage recognizable, even at a distance. In that, she could relate. Maybe not to the same degree but to Maro, here in Iwa she was a stranger. With dark auburn hair that had just a slight too much shade of red to brush off as any kind of brown that was the norm for the majority of the population. Fair skin that never tanned no matter how long exposed to the sun, but most of all, her steel gray-blue, green-rimmed eyes that made her stand out among the sea of browns, occasional greys, and almost blacks like a white feather on a raven's back.

In the end, it was probably their shared love of the same type of weapons. The White Fang's Chakra Blade was almost as famous as the man who wielded it. As renowned master of kenjustu, it's user was already a dangerous opponent to face at all, but with the legendary tanto in his hand, he was death on the wind. Hearing of his past and present exploits made the young girl dream of replicating such feats. Daydreams and visions of graceful movements, fluidly striking down opponents, relentlessly teased her ever curious mind until she had researched all she could on katana's, wakizashi's, tanto's, and the fighting styles correlating to each blade, and was satisfied with what she found.

While Senju Tsunade's recognition came from a specialty within a group, Hatake Sakumo stood on his own.

The legacy of the White Fang was his.

Even if there was no other reason than that, it was enough for Maro's admiration.

The day she turned eight, the minimum age requirement to join the Iwa Shinobi Academy, Maro walked in; a scarlet mask hiding her neck and face, and the filled, complete waiver in her hand with the beginning of her own legacy written next to her now first name.

Nanashi, Maro. No name, and myself. Two fitting titles that would mark her beginning.

And so at eight years old, Nanashi Maro passed the entrance exam and was admitted into Iwa's shinobi program. The lessons were easy, boringly so, but Maro did nothing to complain. There was no need for anyone to know about her or what she was truly capable of. She would graduate on her own terms, no too skilled not too unskilled. Her own chosen level, precisely in ordinance with her favorite shinobi quote. _'Great is the ability, to hide one's ability'_ from the tome of Shinobi Proverbs. Besides, whatever space of time she had left over from studying mundane kunoichi lessons could be spent spying on the boys separate and specialized training programs. Skills that were not usually broadened on in home class and almost always in conflict with the usual homeroom studies and daily kunoichi lessons were various taijutsu kata classes, advanced lessons in strategy and field tactics, lectures on weaponry, and finally, training courses in the fine art of kenjutsu. If it meant hiding her true potential, she would. If only to be certain she would be able to learn absolutely everything this institution had to offer, whether the instructors cared to teach her _themselves _or not.

Watching, learning, and reviewing every movement and tid bit of information she could, Maro would take it all in before mimicking everything in the safety of a hidden alcove at night and studying under her blankets long after the rest had fallen asleep. Nanashi Maro would graduate in five years to the dubious rank of Genin, she decided; and when she had graduated, she would see her share of the world, and take in all it had to offer her. Perhaps somewhere out there, she could find the answers to her troubling questions. The ones that hid and festered in the dark corners of her mind; maybe, even the questions themselves. Recognition and legend, she knew would come in good time. For now though, she was content to wait and see. One week later, Nanashi Maro would come to regret her own decision for the first time.

For a week after Maro had join the Shinobi Academy, Iwa declared war on Konoha. The reason for such an act somehow eluded her when she'd first heard. Apparently, tensions between the two villages had already been high and now some unforgivable slight had been done on the part of one of Konoha's shinobi while inside their borders, but that was not important. Not with the next tragedy that soon came after it.

One month following Iwa's declaration of war, the news of Konoha shinobi Hatake Sakumo reached Maro's ears.

The White Fang was dead.

It wasn't a death where it had snuck up upon him while fighting somewhere among the chaos of a battlefield; he hadn't died by an enemy's hand or jutsu. It wasn't even by some tragic illness which had claimed his mortality.

Hatake Sakumo died by his own hand, alone and shunned by his village and comrades for aborting a vital mission…for the sake of saving the lives of his teammates.

For one blinding, brilliant moment…Nanashi Maro hated Iwa and Konoha equally…and with passion.

But life doesn't stop for anyone. Disappointment is as much a part of life as accomplishment and is cruel to everything, and everyone without mercy or compassion. Things and events happen and pass. People move on.

And it was true. With war now the reality of the world only important, relevant details were paid any attention to now. Food and weaponry stores were counted and restocked. Village defenses checked, rechecked and shored up. Shinobi troops and reserves were armed and reviewed in preparation for upcoming combat. Academy lessons were put on fast-forward in efforts to churn out more ninja to fill the ranks and make up for rising losses.

And unnoticed amidst it all, one unassuming academy students' hours of secret self-training in the art of kenjutsu increased half again as much. Just one of the unimportant details that would remain unknown by everyone but her.

Just another growing skill kept secret from the village that somehow couldn't be called _home_.

Coming out of her reverie, Maro brought herself back to the present. That was the past, seven years ago to be relatively accurate, even if the events that had happened since then made those years feel closer to an eternity.

Instead of graduating from the Academy in five years at thirteen, Maro and seventeen others had been passed to the rank of Genin after only two years at the age range of ten and eleven. She wouldn't be surprised if half of them were already dead. Of her own mismatched team, only their assigned Jonin sensei and she were left. The other two boys on her team had died during a scouting mission by their own arrogance after they rushed into a ring of paper bomb traps that had killed them instantly. Their Jonin sensei and she were left to fight off the Konoha three-man chunin squad who had laid in wait for their targets. One of those men had been her first kill.

The man, no teenager, couldn't have been any older than sixteen. Only four years older than her at the time, and yet he had died as easily as a kunai to the back of the neck. Kawarimi really was the most underappreciated jutsu she'd ever seen, and with her absolute mastery over it, substituting with the kunai he'd merely shifted to avoid had been simply reflex to her. Quick, easy, and painless, that was what she thought death looked like at first; but then that last bit of naivety was quickly extinguished when the two Leaf-nin left fighting her sensei managed to execute an exceptionally skilled taijutsu-ninjutsu combo that ended up crushing his right leg from the foot to just above the knee. Her sensei had still managed to come out victorious in the end, the Leaf-nin's deaths both bloody and grotesque, but his career as a shinobi was over. That ironically, was probably the only reason he was still alive at this point, although on the odd chance she took the time to check up on him, with the amount of alcohol she'd seen him consuming he'd probably end up finishing the job the Leaf-nins had started within a few years; slowly and painfully, before finally giving up.

Maro herself had simply survived.

That was what it all boiled down too now. She did what she had to do in order to survive, nothing more and nothing less. What was the point, after all, of building up a reputation, your own legend through hard work, blood, sweat and tears when it could all be torn down in one fell swoop? Why did people even bother dreaming about it? Didn't they realize what really laid in wait down that path? Ninja, by definition in the Shinobi Rules, were not people in the first place. They were tools to fight and carry out orders, to heed and obey their superiors, so what use were things like hope or glory if they could be taken away so easily? Nothing, she decided. Honor, glory, and legend were fool's errand and now that her own sole hope for storing her unknown skill until the time she could fulfill her dream was gone, Nanashi Maro continued to keep it hidden. Her promotion to chunin had been a field promotion, and in itself, by pure fluke. In a last effort to survive a seemingly hopeless situation, she had engaged four Konoha-nin in close quarter combat. Briefly excersizing her hidden genius in improvised strategy, the only jutsus she'd used were Karawami, Bushin, and a few low-level Raiton jutsus of her own design and creation. Apparently though, while the fact that she had taken out four mid-chunin-level Leaf-nin by herself had luckily gone unnoticed, her camp had been in dire need of more chunin and the Iwa-Jonin in command had field-promoted all the remaining Genin to higher rank. It was almost funny, that her reward for surviving another day was a higher rank and more dangerous missions for her to likely die on.

The one she was on was no exception.

An A-rank mission as an advance scouting party deep into Fire Country territory to take observation and intelligence on the progress of the enemy's front lines. The team chosen consisted of her, three other chunin, and a jonin squad leader. None of the others were kunoichi, and as such were predictably skeptical of her skills as a chunin. Maro bore it all stoically while giving nothing away. None of them knew much of anything about her and their blatant ignorance towards their own shortcomings only made it easier for her to analyze and categorize their every move and possible weakness available for exploitation. She'd deal with them as she did with everything else, with outward indifference and casual dismissal, while internally dissecting every detail and absorbing them for future contemplation and analysis. Not because she ever planned to actually use the information but if for no other reason, it would at least keep her from getting too bored. Something that admitedly happened far to often in her opinion, but at the same time, couldn't be helped. It was by her own choice after all.

Maro straightened herself, smoothly pushing off the tree. It was time to move. She would wake the others now.

Gliding from her post on the tree, Maro headed towards the sole Jonin and appointed leader of the group, a broad shouldered man with tan skin, dark brown hair, and light brown eyes, named Tsuchijin Kujiro. Knowing from what she had compiled about the man that he was a Jonin who _earned_ his rank, she simply stopped a good six inches away, balanced herself on the balls of her feet and pointedly stared a Kujiro. It didn't take much longer than thirty seconds before the miniscule shifts and twitches gave away his coming to wakefulness. With barely any change in his breathing pattern, Kujiro's eyes only opened by a mere fraction. Taking in the familiar style shinobi footwear of his home village, he allowed his eyes to open fully to see his subbordinate crouched in front of him. Her voice was soft and emotionless as her face as she delivered her report.

"An hour has pasted since dawn, no altercations during last watch, Tsuchijin-taicho."

Short, simple, and to the point, that pretty much described it all. Heaving himself up, Kujiro took a quick glace around camp. The others were still sleeping though he hadn't really been expecting anything else. Reporting to the commanding officer was the first line of business to proceed with after last watch, and with Nanashi's knack for rigid professionalism to the point of near roboticness, he honestly couldn't say he was surprised.

Getting to his feet while hiding a quick stretch, he made his way around waking the rest of his squad.

"Alright, wake up, grab somethin' to eat all of ya. We're on schedule, so if we make it to the border today, it's home turf and travel. We leave in five minutes."

* * *

Leaves, twigs, and an assortment of other different types of foliage whisked by as the red and brown clad kuniochi sprinted through the woods and undergrowth at full speed. Occasionally punctuated with a rotten tree branch or log as she Kawarimi'ed as far as she could, Maro ran headlong parallel with the border while trying to advance closer with a north-west tangent.

The mission had been going smoothly. Her squad was almost back on Iwa controled soil when their luck finally turned on them and all hell broke loose.

They had run right across the path of a team of Konoha-nin who could only have been forward scout/recon returning to their base camp. The fact was bad enough as even with near impossible odds of two forward scouting parties meeting at the same place just _had_ to happen to them; one of the members on the Leaf-nins just also happened to be none other than the damn Yellow Flash himself, _Namikaze Minato_.

It was an ambush that had quickly turned into an individual chase. One of the other Iwa chunin, Dai-something or other had died within the first second as a three pronged kunai embedded itself in his throat. After that it was everyman for himself as the Yellow Flash lived up to his name and appeared by the man's only just starting to fall body in less than a second, managing to render what Maro assumed was a serious injury to a second member, Ishido Nomu before he could escape completely underground via a Doton techique.

Maro herself, being the only one unable to perform any kind of Doton jutsu, was left to flee through a string of continual substitutions in a northwestern tangent towards the rendezvous point. Her senses suddenly flared and she quickly Kawarimied not a millisecond too soon as a tri-pronged kunai slammed into the log that had taken her place. A yellow flash later and the man himself appeared right on top of the log, only for him to grab his weapon and push off it as the paper bombs attached to its surface detonated with a decent sized explosion.

Landing horizontally on a tree trunk, Minato immediatly darted right as three senbon were hurled by his quarry in his direction. While he was somewhat loathe to admit it, this chase was becoming more annoying and yet, unnerving at the same time. When his squad had first been warned about the oncoming Iwa squad by a teammate named Hyuuga Konoshio, they'd immediately taken up adequate ambush positions, believing this would all be over in a matter of seconds.

However, the Iwa team must have already been high strung and on high alert, for the moment one of his special kunai hit the center man in the throat, he was only able to deeply injure one more as he and the others had all scattered using a variety of underground Doton techiques to escape. Well, all except one. The lone kunoichi in the group had fled by applying Kawarimi an impressive distance before sprinting off north-west. So, seeing as how his _Hirashin_ was near useless against opponents underground, he had left Konoshio and two others to use his Byakugan to go after the Iwa shinobi while he followed after the kunoichi saying he should be back in a minute or two.

It had already been two and a half. It was not that he wasn't fast enough to catch up to her_, _it was simply her near uncanny ability to string multiple Kawarimi's together and without warning for a sudden jump in the distance she could cover made it harder than usual to pin her down. That, and her tactics of weaving in and around the more dense groupings of trees while leaving behind the odd 'present' in her wake made him hesitant to throw his kunai lest he run out before he could even get in range.

A flitting movement caught the corner of his eye, and in an instant he was on her tail. Coming speedily up on her rear, he quickly darted left and around a tree as she glanced over her right shoulder. Pushing off with a small burst of chakra, he shot out his arm, aiming for the jugular and a quick death. The girl whorled her face around, her eyes widening marginally at the oncoming strike towards her neck, only for his weapon and hand to pass straight through untouched and cause the illusion to waver and disperse as a plain kunai fell to the ground.

_"A Bunshin!"_

Another substitution only this time coupled with a normal clone, two basic Academy moves, but executed flawlessly. Now Minato was taking the situation a bit more seriously, his praised genius mind already reading into the implications of what he had seen so far. From the beginning of the chase 'til now, the Iwa kunoichi still hadn't used anything other than pure speed and Academy basic jutsus to run away and avoid his preemptive attacks. This could mean several things, a few including she was either not a ninjutsu-type fighter and was only this good at using basic ninja techniques, or she purposefully limiting herself to low-chakra consuming jutsu in preparation for including, but not limited to: a desperate last counter attack (he'd had to deal with his fair share of those in past years), possible suicide jutsu (he'd had to deal with _more_ than his fair share of _those_ in past years) or a chakra consuming escape jutsu (not really seen as often as the last two but still a possible option).

So he was facing an opponent that was cautious, rescourceful, quick-thinking under pressure, and backed into a corner. That could spell trouble; he'd have to be more careful.

He got his answer the split second after the clone dispersed as a tell-tale buzzing in the air betrayed an oncoming Raiton technique. Minato's eyes shot up seeing the girl in mid-air just finishing up a handsign and casting a handful of senbon.

"**Raiton: Senbon Spark Net**"

The dozen or so senbon divided and multiplied into dozens more, streaking towards their target as sparks of lightning jumped from one senbon to another so fast it gave the attack the appearence of casting an expanding net of electricity. He quickly flashed to one of his kunai he'd thrown out of range before the attack as the storm of needles peppered the ground where he had once stood, kicking up dust and sending singed debris flying into the air.

Desperate confrontation it was apparently.

Movement to his left caused him to duck, a kunai stuck in the tree by his head. Flitting to the ground, he saw her falling towards him kunai poised in each hand. Launching a couple shuriken at her, she responded by throwing her kunai, taking two out while avoiding the third in the air. Her feet were now bare inches from the ground but he was already on her. A swift upper cut to the solar plexus, only for it to faze though once again. That Kawarimi trick was starting to become worrisome. Quickly he located her chakra signature and readied his special kunai to throw in her direction.

A instant too late he registered the movement of the 'Bunshin' behind him.

This one hadn't dissipated.

"**Raiton: Static Bunshin Charge**"

The hand on his back between his shoulder blades fazed and the image of the Static Bunshin morphed as its charge snapped through Minato, lighting his entire nervous system on fire as he was electricuted by the jutsu. The effect was only prolonged as the surrounding field was fed lightning nature chakra through the few dozen senbon embedded in the dirt by the kunoichi crouching among the leaves holding a thin metal wire. With a pained yell, he fell to the ground, muscles spasming and body twitching uncontrollably as his body shut down into unconsciousness from overloaded senses and pain.

Maro remained crouched behind the leaves of her vantage point, raking her senses for the barest hint of a trap. Even though she'd put enough chakra into that last attack to knock a grown man out for a good ten minutes, there was a reason the Yellow Flash had a 'flee-on-sight' label in Iwa's bingo books. Hell, the very idea that she'd had the gall to ignore that warning _try_ to fight him anyway was nothing less than downright foolishness. There **had** to be some sort of trap.

Ten seconds passed...

...then twenty...then a whole minute.

Nothing. The man laid sprawled on the small opening between the surrounding forests wasn't a clone nor did she sense any other signatures to suggest there were any around hiding. He simply stayed still there on the ground, save for the very faint rise and fall of his chest.

The Yellow Flash, for intents and purposes, lay defeated and out cold in front of her.

Hesitantly, Maro jumped down from her perch, ready to initiate a string of Kawarimi's in a millisecond. Her feet touched the ground but nothing moved. It had been two minutes, and a thought struck her that now was probably the time to run away and run away **fast**. She still had to go meet up with her squad, or what was left of it and report back to Iwa. The mission, she was still on a mission. And yet, she couldn't come to make herself leave...not without checking first. She wanted, no _needed_ to know for sure.

Had she really just defeated Namikaze Minato?

His body was now by her feet, a few errant muscles still twitching into stillness, but other than that his chakra signature felt dim as one would feel when passed out. Nothing on his face gave away any sign that might indicate consciousness and his breathing was even and deep.

She proded him with her foot. An incredibly _stupid move_ but she wasn't able to stop herself.

Not even a flinch.

So she kicked him, harder this time in the ribs. She was beyond caring at this point. Whether she died here or not out of her own blatant stupidity, she didn't give a damn. She needed to _know._

The man remained still, his chakra dull and body languid. Namikaze Minato was well and truly dead to the wakeful world.

And she had been the one to do it. Nanashi Maro had defeated Konohagakure's Yellow Flash.

Suddenly, Maro was seized with such a nearly overwhelming sense of absolute pride, she thought her chest would burst. She had _done it_! She, Nanashi Maro, an unwanted, no-name street orphan had done what every other Iwa shinobi who dared to _dreamed_ about. She had defeated the Yellow Flash in one-on-one combat. With nothing but her quick thinking and jutsu. Her _own_ jutsu. Raiton: _Senbon Spark Net _and Raiton: _Static Bunshin_ were jutsu of her own design and creation. No one else had helped her in this. This victory was solely _hers_!

An then, just as quickly as it had come it was gone. Simply, vanished.

Why? Because...because...

_"...because it's all pointless...all of it..."_

So what if she had defeated him. So what if she had survived against the impossible and came out victorious? What was it worth? Absolutely, nothing. It wasn't as if she had anyone to tell about this. No one would believe her anyway, short of her bring his severed head with her, and now the very thought of doing such a thing only made the deep pain in her chest sink even deeper.

_"What's the point? What possible reason do I have to kill this man?"_

Several answers popped up into her head but she brushed them off just as easily.

Duty she had to her village, her commitment as a shinobi to protect her homeland. Please, Iwa had never been a _home_ to her, not it the sense that she loved it. She had been willing to fight in its name during this war but really, even that was a lie. Whether she recognized it at the time or not, what she had really been willing to do was die. Be it by some Leaf-nin's hand or any other form of mortality's retribution, she had gone to war for the sole reason of dying a fitting death and nothing more. And as for commitment and responsibility, loyalty to the village whose insignia she carried, what did they matter to her?

When had they ever _really_ mattered to her?

It was then at that moment, Nanashi Maro, chunin of Iwagakure came to realize the answer. It was the same answer to the unknown question that had been plaguing her since she was a little eight year old girl hearing about the death of her role model in the smoke and alcohol scented room of a back street bar for the first time.

What was her purpose is this world, now that her shining hope was gone?

And the answer,

...nothing, she didn't have one.

She didn't have a purpose in this world because she didn't care about anything, even her own life. She was... unnecessary.

That thought chilled her, chilled her to the bone.

Now that she had come to the full realization of her question, she also had to come to the full realization of its answer. She hadn't cared for so long. Ever since the news the White Fang's fall from glory and subsiquent suicide, Maro had lost all her hope, all of her will to try for success. There were no dreams for the future for her anymore and yet at the same time she couldn't go back to that hell-hole where she'd come from; and she wouldn't take the shameful way out either. Maro wasn't _that_ much of a coward. She could at least die in a better way than something as pitiful as suicide. The war would consume her, she would kill and one day, hopefully, she would be killed as well and that would be the end of it.

Looking down blankly at the blonde-haired man in front of her, Maro took out a kunai from her pouch. Slowly and automatically, almost robotically, she brought it down closer to his unprotected neck, her cold eyes dead and unfeeling. Just as the tip of the blade pressed against the skin above his jugular, she stopped. An odd thought stuck in her mind.

Here she was, poised to kill the man who single handedly had become the physical embodiment of fear to all shinobi in not just Iwa, but even across the Elemental Nations. A man who was going to die by the hand of an insignificant no-name chunin kunoichi. All his power, his entire legacy he had created would simply dry up, wither and inevitably die with him here in the middle of nowhere.

_"All of his power...his legacy...so easily crushed...how pitiful. It's almost exactly like...like..."_

Like the White Fang and his unworthy end.

Maro drew the kunai back and stood up, eyes narrowing at a myriad of thoughts that suddenly coursed through her mind.

_"A pitiful end...is that all there is left for him...no, better yet, is that all that is left for **me**? To be remembered as the unnamed hand that struck down the invincible Yellow Flash by mere **fluke?**", _grey-blue, and green colored eyes narrowed.

Taking a few steps back, Maro surveyed the man once over again, this time taking in every detail as her long-repressed, brilliant mind suddenly went into overdrive. Ideas, theories, arguments, outcomes, all raced across her minds' eye unraveling, intertwining, and then...overcame with a sureal calm. A sudden new future lay open in front of her. It was possible, probable even. Plans within plans within plans, all of them shifting and twisting the course of history, slowly taking form and revealing a new path. A new purpose.

No, this man could not die here. This was not his end.

_"It is only the begining."_

Gripping her weapon, Maro charged forward, swinging her blade in a downward arc towards his throat, only for a hail of shuriken to impale themselves deep within her torso with enough force to knock her back, spraying her life blood into the air for a few seconds, before the image dispersed and was replaced by a log riddled with the projectiles.

Hyuuga Konoshio and two other fellow ninja dashed out of the surrounding foliage. With his byakugan blazing, he frantically searched the area for any other lingering enemies as his one of his comrades took off after the kunoichi and the other took up post by Minato. Seeing that there were no enemy threats in the area, Konoshio deactivated his kekkei genkai, then walked over and knelt across from his comrade assessing the damage to their captain.

"How is he? What's wrong with him?", glancing up at the brown-haired man across from him, Konoshio tried not to let his mind think of the worst.

Luckily, his teammate, known as Nomiki Daiju, met his gaze briefly but long enough to dispell his fears.

"Nothing too serious, asides from obvious nerve trauma due to what I assume could be from a Raiton jutsu, it's minimal. He's just unconscious."

Relief flooded through both men at the news, though the reality of the situation still lingered in the forefront of their minds. Witnessing the great Namikaze Minato sprawled out on the dirt about to be taken out by a lone kunoichi unsettled them more than either man was willing to admit.

A third chakra signature approached and soon a younger man of about 19, with dirty blond hair and deep green eyes came out of the trees. Tabaru Zenji, the fourth and final member who had taken after the fleeing Iwa kunoichi, opened his mouth to say something but then took one look at the two men gathered around the captain of their team and instead dashed over, his face tight with no small amount of concern. Eyes wide his asked frantically,

"What is it? What's wrong with him? How bad is he? He's not-", he cut himself off before he could even finish the terrifying thought. The Yellow Flash couldn't be dead. No, not here, not now. It just wasn't possible.

Daiju lay a hand on his shoulder, firmly griping it in an effort to calm the young man down before his emotions got the better of him.

"He's fine, and before you ask, no, it's nothing serious, he's just unconscious. He'll be fine."

Heaving a sigh of relief, Zenji felt the sudden tension drain from his frame. Of course nothing bad had happened; this was Namikaze Minato, one of if not the best shinobi of Konoha. This whole situation was all probably just a fluke.

Leaving Daiju to deal with their final team member, Konoshio reactivated his byakugan and began to survey Minato's chakra network more closely. It seemed a bit stressed, although that was to be expected if he really had been hit by a Lightning technique as Daiju had suggested, but other than that there wasn't any sign of permanent or serious damage. Physically, he looked fine as well. Closing off the extra chakra to his eyes, Konoshio looked up to the other two in front of him.

"I don't see any damage to his chakra system. I'm going to go ahead and try to wake him up. You two may want to keep your distance a bit. I'm not sure how he's going to react to this method."

Both men nodded in acknowledgement and stepped a pace back to give him and their captain some space. Focusing a bit of his chakra into his fingertips, the member of the Hyuuga Branch Family methodically inserted a small measure of it into the man's temple. Suddenly, whipping out a kunai to block the reacting strike but unable to counter the following strike, Konoshio soon found himself on his back with a blade to his throat as his teammates tried to calm the disoriented man down.

"Namikaze-taicho, relax! We're not here to harm you! Please, relax!"

"Namikaze-taicho! It's us! We're here to help, please calm down!"

The legendary Yellow Flash of Konoha blinked, his vision still slightly swimming as his head pounded with a combination of stress, trauma, and the sudden shift of blood in his head that accompanied his swift rise from the floor. Finally recognizing the pale eyes and regal face of his comrade in arms, Minato released his hold on the man and put away his weapon in lieu of clutching his head in his hands and groaning.

"Arrrg, Konoshio-san, what the- Where's the kunoichi? Damn it, ow..."

Konoshio looked at the man, concern mixed with a bit of worry leaking into his features as he watched his team leader hold his head in pain.

"You took too long to get back taicho. We followed the rest of the Iwa team but were unable to apprehend them and they got away. When over five minutes had past and you still hadn't returned we became worried. Are you aware of how much distance you covered?"

Shifting his hands through his hair to message his temples, Minato looked up taking in the surrounding area with a slight grimace.

"Er, not exactly. Whoever that kunoichi was had the most unique way of using Kawarimi that I've ever seen. By stringing several in close conjuction with each other, it made it hard to find a good shot."

Daiju raised an eyebrow at that revalation. Somewhat cautiously, he couldn't help but venture out the question that was eating at him unrelentingly.

"Did her unique application of...academy basic jutsu by any chance have anything to do with how you became...incapacitated?"

Minato's head jerked over to Daiju, his face surprised before morphing into a grim expression.

"I was careless. I thought she had used another Kawarimi-Bunshin combo to distract me and didn't notice the clone hadn't disappeared like the first one she used. Some type of Lightning Bunshin-".

"A _Bunshin?!"_

Now all three pairs of eyes were trained on Zenji who stared back, his own eyes and jaw wide at the unbelievable news.

"Namikaze-taicho...you mean to say that you...you were knocked unconscious by a _bunshin?_ That...that's..."

His question invariably trailed off, as what looked like both confusion and disbelief were both battling for supremacy on his face.

Minato sighed, now that his head had stopped throbbing to the point of almost dizziness, he accepted the helping hand from Konoshio. Pushing off the ground and steadying himself on his feet, he brushed the dirt and assorted debris off his jonin apparel somewhat sheepishly.

"Aa, Zenji-san, apparently even I can still be caught unawares too, eh?"

Still slightly disbelieving, the dirty-blond haired young man seemed to try and give what could have been a smile but in reality, looked more like a grimace of pain than anything else. Seeing the rest of his squad stand up and ready, Minato scanned around the trees before locating one of his special kunai. Quickly retrieving and storing it in his tool pouch, he gave a quick nod to the others.

"We need to get back to Konoha soon then. We'll push on for the rest of today until evening, rest a few hours, and make it back home by late tonight or early morning tomorrow. Hey, by the way, what happened to the Iwa kunoichi?"

Konoshio and Daiju both turned to look at Zenji who suddenly realized the attention and flushed, looking down in obvious embarrassment.

"Uh, ano...when we got here, we saw her charging at you with a kunai but Konoshio-san stopped her and she ran off, I followed after her in pursuit but she was too fast and I lost her so..."

Daiju clapped a hand on the man's back causing him to stumble forward a step, replying jovially, "Don't be so glum, things didn't go as planned but we'll make the most of it. Let's just focus on hurrying back to the village for now, yeah?"

Murmuring in agreement, the whole group then turned back towards their original course, and set out at a brisk pace heading closer to the Leaf Village.

None of the men ever noticed the absence of the second tri-pronged kunai.

* * *

The tell-tale copper tang of blood reached Maro's nose through her mask as she made her way up towards the predetermined rondezvous point. The rest of what was left of the scouting team had already made it before her apparently. Proceeding with caution, Maro advanced steadily into their field of sight before revealing herself. Absently deflecting a shuriken, she leaned to the side avoiding an uppercut towards her solar plexus, catching the wrist and twisting the arm at the same time she placed one of her own kunai at her assailant's throat.

"Tozo-san, refrain from attacking my person and I will be most appreciative."

Kantsuki Tozo's eyes widened slightly, but relaxed his posture as he recognized the kunoichi in front of him. Scowling darkly through his sand brown bangs, his dark brown-almost black eyes glared at her snapping.

"Maybe I wouldn't have to attack you if you'd feel the need to use some common sense and warn us of your approach Nanashi. Where the hell have you been?"

Stowing her kunai, Maro smoothly breezed past the man who only scowled harder at her blatant dismissal. Reaching out, he made to grab at her almost snarling.

"Hey, I asked you a question you f****** bitc-"

"Enough Tozo, control yourself; Nanashi, come over here and help me with Nomu, he's losing too much blood."

Kujiro's sharp voice had Maro moving quickly to the opposite side of the badly injured and gasping man. Surveying the damage, she cringed inwardly. She'd guessed right, Namikaze _had_ scored a good hit. A large, bleeding wound ran diagonally across the shinobi's front from his left shoulder to his right hip. If the injury wasn't sealed quickly, Nomu would bleed out very soon. Glancing up, she saw Kujiro looking at her, his face set and serious.

"Are you any good at Ijustu? Do you think you can heal him?"

Maro looked back down at the man who was now having greater trouble breathing, his breaths becoming shallower and more painful. Meeting her squad captain's eyes again, she replied, her voice and visible face as blank as ever.

"I can stabilize him. Hold him down firmly."

Quickly maneuvering so Tozo could firmly grasp Nomu's right shoulder, Maro retrieved one of her kunai from her belt pouch and held it out to the injured man.

"Bite."

Shifting his eyes to her, Nomu opened his mouth slightly as if to ask a question rather than follow the order. However, whatever it was he'd been about to ask was instantly wiped from his mind as Maro placed the handle between his teeth and without hesitation, cauterized the entire wound from hip to shoulder by tracing it with fingertips coated in Lightning chakra. The shaft splintered as his jaw clenched around it and a broken scream ripped from his throat as his other two comrades gripped his arms and held him firmly to the ground. Once the she had completely sealed off the injury, Maro swiftly preformed the hand signs to the Mystical Palm Technique and laid her hands over the large scab now covering Nomu's chest, the eerie green medical chakra soothing the agony underneath and hardening the grotesque cover to the surrounding skin. By this time, the sensations had become too much and Ishido Nomu graciously pass out into unconsciousness.

Finishing up from hardening and sealing the large scab airtight, Maro drew slightly back to review her handiwork. The man would end up having a large scar for the rest of his life, but he had a much higher chance of living now that he wasn't continuously losing blood. Sensing movement to her left, she shifted her head marginally allowing the hand coming towards her face to glide harmlessly past. Getting to her feet, she kept her eyes on Tozo, who by now was advancing on her with his face now shrouded in fury.

"What the hell do you think you were doing?! You said you could heal him not injure him further! Why didn't you just heal him?"

Still watching him with dispassionate eyes, Maro gave a slight shrug.

"I said I could stabilize him. I did. His injury was to sever to heal. I am not a medic at that level of skill."

Tozo was clenching and unclenching his hands now, gritting through his teeth as he ground out, "Then why didn't you fucking say that you f****** b****-"

"Tozo, I said enough, now curb your temper before I curb it for you."

Kujiro set his stern gaze on Tozo while at the same time tried to feed a blood pill down the unconscious man's throat.

"Nomu-san is stabilized and safe enough to travel, now that he's not losing any more blood. You carry him and hold your tongue."

Tozo shot one last parting glare at Maro, before turning and obeying his captain's orders. Lifting Nomu up carefully, so as not to aggravate his injury, he secured him in his grasp, making sure he wouldn't slip when he moved. Kujiro stood up, looking between what was left of his squad, before coming to his decision.

"The more ground we cover the sooner we can get Ishido-san proper medical care. If we travel fast we can make it back in two days. We'll travel until late tonight, and then take a short break before pushing through until morning. After that, we'll continue in five hour shifts with half-hour rest stops. Eat and drink as you go if you must."

Turning on his heel, he began the journey back to Iwa with Tozo and Maro trailing behind him.

* * *

Nighttime critters chirped and buzzed their melodies to the surrounding enviroment, harmonizing with one another in the unique song of late night. The trees and thick foliage native to the Fire Country had thinned out, giving way to the surrounding shrubs and sparsh brush of Earth Country. Hidden amid this landscape were four figures, one still lost to the realm of unconsciousness, and the other three taking a brief rest before they continued to their destination.

Maro shifted her eyes over to where Kujiro was sitting and taking small sips of water from his travel canteen. While having long since regulated her breathing to a normal pace, she took in a deeper breath to ready herself and then smoothly made her way over to him. Time to put it all into motion. Crouching on his left, she waited until his eyes met hers before venturing her question.

"Tsuchijin-taicho, could I request a moment of your time?"

A slight blink was the only indication she got that betrayed his surprise. She didn't blame him. For the entire duration of the mission she had not voluteered more than a handful of words without prompting, and even then she'd always said as little as possible. For her to suddenly come to him and ask for an audience with him was very out of character for her and most likely caught him off guard.

Kujiro, was having similar thoughts. Narrowing his eyes ever so slightly, he nodded his head slightly in acknowledgment while he took stock of the oddest subordinate on his team. He'd only met Nanashi Maro for the first time quite recently, this mission was actually the first time he'd had the chance to work with her, but in all his observations this request was not her usual behavior. Her masked face was still impassive, eyes flat and almost bored looking, and her body posture was relaxed and indifferent, but she had asked him a question. A question without prompting and that eluded to, as brief as it might be, continued conversation. Bracing himself internally, he turned a bit so that he was facing her more fully. When she didn't respond to either gesture, he tried again this time verbally; wondering if dispite appearances Nanashi was actually nervous of what she wanted to say.

"Yes Nanashi-san, what is it?"

The Iwa chunin didn't even twitch as she replied to the prompt.

"I wish to make my report...and present my findings to you, Tsuchijin-taicho."

_"That's all?"_

Kujiro was puzzled but kept his face straight dispite the questions gnawing at the back of his mind. First thing to do was to find out what was so important about this 'report'. Then he could make judgment calls.

"...very well. What is your report Nanashi-san, and what are your...findings?"

Maro didn't answer at first, leaving him puzzled and a bit irratated. What was with her? She had always been to the point without fail for the entirety of the mission. Why this sudden hesitation? Then Maro moved, slipping her hand into her kunai pouch she brought forth a kunai. Not just any kunai. It was of peculiar design, its handle slightly longer than average and with three prongs on the blade.

It was one of the kunai that belonged to Konoha's Yellow Flash.

Before he could even register his own movement, Kujiro had whipped out a kunai of his own and brought it snug up against Maro's throat. His eyes wide, he stared at the girl in front of him, his intention to berate her for doing something so _bloody stupid_, but his voice only managed to come out in a harsh whisper.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're _doing_ Nanashi!? Why the f*** did you bring that thing with you? Are you trying to get us all killed!?"

The girl didn't even move. Not a single. f******. twitch. Just stared back impassively as if waiting for _him_ to calm down before she answered.

"I have placed a chakra repulsion seal on it. It can not be used. I am sure."

That last bit seemed to be only said for his benefit but that didn't make him drop the blade he had against her throat.

"And just how is _that_ supposed to make me feel better? _Nanashi?_"

The infuriating young woman in front of him only blinked owlishly, stating in a blank voice,

"The seal I've placed on this kunai is a Chakra Repulsion Seal. It will repel any chakra in or around the object. I have placed it out of commission."

As if seeing he still didn't believe her, she continued even as the blade brushed dangerously close to breaking the cloth and cutting the vulnerable skin of her neck.

"If the Yellow Flash could still make use of it, he would have already done so. He has not. This kunai can not be used. I am sure."

At that moment, the entirety of the situation decided to hit Kujiro full force and in all its intenseness. One of his subordinates had a kunai belonging to the Yellow Flash. Which meant they would have had to have been close enough to come in contact with one. Which meant they would have had to have been in close contact with their **owner**. Which meant they would have done all of those things..._and **still** survived to present him with one._

The shinobi corp of Iwagakure had been trying to get information on the technique used by the Yellow Flash for _years _and with very little success. Most of what they had compiled was common knowledge, the kunai used, its intergration with Fuinjutsu, the resulting yellow flash the accompanied the technique and signaled its use, but _no one _had been able to procure a complete sample of the seal array the man used. It just wasn't possible. The people who did get close enough to even catch a glimpse of it were killed in seconds and those who had tried stealing one of his kunai before were cut down by the man suddenly appearing along side them. Any information there might be on it inside the village was guarded and locked up more tightly than the Sandaime Hokage's _pipe, _and yet here he was, with a member of his squad holding one of the most feared weapons out to him, bearing what could only be the complete seal array as well as an additional seal marking the blade, supposedly, rendering it useless for attack.

Finally, he drew back his hand but did not replace his kunai in his pouch as he glared at Maro, ordering tersely.

"Report."

Maro set the kunai down between them, then began.

"When the Konoha team ambushed us, and the team dispersed, I fled northwest parallel with the rendezvous point. A few seconds into my flight, I sensed I was being pursued. I took evasive actions but they failed. After two minutes I caught sight of my pursuer. It was Namikaze Minato, Iwa Bingo Book page 63, monkier: Konoha's Yellow Flash. He tried to engage me in hand-to-hand combat but I executed several Kawarimi's and intergrated them with two Bunshin and a Static Bunshin to create multiple diversions. I saw an opening of escape but a second before I did, I sighted one of the kunai he used. I took the chance, placing a chakra repulsion seal on it, had my Static Bunshin fake a suicide kinjutsu, and shushined as many times as I could while masking my chakra. Once sure of my safety I continued to the rendezvous point, taking an added route to ensure the precautions I took were effective. They were, I met up with the rest of the squad thirty-three minutes and fourteen seconds after seperation."

Kujiro stared at the girl. The whole report sounded impossible. Here was she, a chunin, telling him she had managed to out manuver the Leaf's famed Yellow Flash? With only Kawarimi and a few Bunshin? How could she crouch there and tell him with a straight face that she had encountered the Namikaze f****** Minato one-on-one and managed to not only survive, but secure the most sought after piece of information Iwa had ever coveted as well? Not only that but where did this never seen before now knowledge of seals come from? Making one's own paper bombs and shock tags was one thing, but Chakra Repulsion Seals were a _whole _different level.

Tsuchijin Kujiro was a Jonin, not just by name, but by merit. He had _earned_ every inch of that rank and the respect that came with it. He didn't need any of that at the moment to tell that the situation at hand did not add up. The information he had was too little and if he had to hazard a guess as to the reality of what had _really _just happened then he would have to say that either Nanashi Maro was NOT an ordinary chunin (a rather unlikely case, considering it was none other than the f****** **Yellow Flash** that she claimed to out wit and escape from) or there was some sort of connection between her and Konoha (as much as he hated having to suspect one of his comrades of possible treason, the theory seemed far more possible and _plausible_ than Nanashi being able to out do Namikaze Minato of all people).

Looking down at the kunai that still lay in the dirt in front of him, Kujiro thought it over, then made his decision. Reaching out and picking up the tri-pronged weapon carefully, as one would pick up an irate rattlesnake, he scanned over the repulsion seal placed on the blade. It seemed perfect, but he wasn't about to take any chances at all with this. Pulling out and opening a scroll from his vest pocket, he stored in inside making sure the seal he used was keyed to open only to his specific chakra signiture before stowing the entire thing back in his vest. Glancing over at his subordinate who still hadn't move so much as an eyebrow, he rose to his feet. They were only two-thirds of the way back, he wasn't be able to do anything about it now. Better to wait until they got back to Stone before dealing with...this. The clouds from yesterday still covered the sky, blocking any light from stars or moon and blanketing the surrounding turf with inky darkness. He would get what was left of his team back home and then...then he would do his own duty as a shinobi of Iwa.

He shifted his gaze to Tozo, who was still cradling Nomu's body and dabbing his pale face with a cloth wetted with a portion of his water. He stowed it in his sleeve after catching his captain's eyes and made ready to continue their travels. Kujiro took a slightly deeper breath and let out a silent sigh, before ordering,

"Change of plans. We'll carry on for another six hours and only take ten minute breaks from here to Iwa. We should make it back by early morning tomorrow."

Tozo looked at him, slightly bewildered.

"Why are we speeding up now? As good as it is for Nomu, why the sudden change." The last part of his question, Tozo gave a resentful look towards Maro to which she gave no indication of noticing.

Kujiro narrowed his eyes at him. He didn't have time for this.

"Because I said so. Stop questioning my orders and get ready to run."

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Tozo kept his retort to himself but not before glaring one more time at the kunoichi of the group.

Maro stood to the side waiting for the signal to leave, not looking at either of her teammates. Out of the corner of his eye, Kujiro analyzed her and her posture. She had stiffened ever so slightly when he had made the change in travel plans and had not looked at any of her team much less made eye contact, instead turning her gaze into the encompassing darkness around them.

She hide it all very well but if he really looked closely, he could see it. She was nervous, feeling defensive and unconsciously was trying to appear as inconspicuous and uneffected as possible. She might have been able to fool most people with the mask she had on but now, after all these new information and questions, now that he knew what to look for, he didn't...couldn't trust it anymore than he did an activated exploding tag.

Seeing the rest of his squad ready to go, Kujiro gave a quick nod and took the lead, heading further into his home country and his village. The sooner he got himself and his team there, the sooner this could all be sorted out. Until then however, Kujiro made sure to keep a special eye on his right side and the kunoichi behind him.

* * *

**A/N: Hellooooo there! Am I on the intermernet yet? Yes? Hooray! It is I! Ducky9002 and I have come through with my promise to upload the first chapter of my first story for you soon! (Aren't I such a good person?) And at 11,383 words, don't y'all love me for being so nice for a first chapter? And only more shall follow! **

**This is mostly because it may take a bit to find the time needed to sit down and continue this story (read: weekends and the occasional holiday) but NEVER FEAR! For I plan to make up for the long waits you shall endure with extra-long chapters for you to enjoy (and review, **_...please..._**). **

**Rest assured that this story is as important to me as any of you, who might find it even remotely interesting, as it is my first fanfic. Yes, I am serious. (If it sucks eggwhites just tell me, I'm sure I can find the yoke around here somewhere...and then wing it right back at you. HATERS!) **

**BUT seriously, constructive critisim is a valuable part of writing. Especially in a progressing story, so please tell me what you think. **

**Also, this story is going to be an epic-length fanfic. As in this first chapter covers only about three plot 'tics' in my outline of about...55, maybe 56 'tics'. (And I haven't even finished writing the complete outline but, don't worry it's in my head and all mapped out.)**

**So that is my promise to you, possible long(ish) waits with probable long(er) chapters packed with as much epic action, drama, and anything else I can think of to make it more awesome. If you'd like to find out a bit more, go visit my profile. **

**Until my next update, I AM THE ALMIGHTY DUCKY9002!**

**Hope you enjoyed it! **

**(Door closed.)**


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